


Every So Often

by Espeones



Series: The Book Of Slashers (Series) [9]
Category: Friday the 13th Series (Movies), Halloween Movies - All Media Types
Genre: Canon-Typical Violence, Cats, Domestic Fluff, M/M, Makeouts, Minor Character Death, Showers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-07
Updated: 2019-02-07
Packaged: 2019-10-23 20:30:24
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,245
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17690324
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Espeones/pseuds/Espeones
Summary: || A "The Shape in the Water" (Myerhees) fanfic. (As I have been having trouble writing stuff, I wanted to write something between them.) ||Michael tends to go out to different houses, murder the occupants, then uses the resources he can and take any food he can carry.Jason tags along.





	Every So Often

A panicked gasp left the woman as he broke through the door, her legs scrambling to push her up and away from the intruder. 

 

    Michael stepped over broken glass and wood chips. The audible crunch under heavy boots. He walked in large strides as she ran to the next room; a kitchen. Looking through drawers and searching frantically for a weapon. She pulled out a kitchen knife, smaller than his own but held it up and ready to defend herself as she was forced into the corner of the room. 

 

    Merciless dark brown hues met scared, wide green ones. A yelp leaving her as she stabbed him in the arm as he tried to grab her. 

 

    Michael hissed, pulling out the knife as she ducked under him and away to the front door. 

 

_ Unlucky _ , Michael thinks as she nearly trips in her haste over fallen items, giving time for him to catch her. He manages to grab and pull her hair just as she twisted the knob. 

 

    He stopped her scream by shoving his knife into her neck. Her body falling limp. He released her, looking around before going back to the back door where he had entered. He grabbed the dark blue duffle bag and made his way around the house in search of a washing machine. Its door was near the end of the hallway, next to it was the bathroom (convenient enough), he stripped down from his bloodied coveralls and opened the duffle bag to retrieve the other dirtied clothes that needed to be washed. 

 

    After a few minutes of figuring out how to work the damn machine, he had made his way to the bathroom. 

 

    Being in an abandoned house had ups and downs. One of the downs being the lack of water and electricity most of the time. So, to solve his problem, he tends to go to an occupied house, killing its recipient, and using their things. (Or he'll visit Camp Crystal Lake, but that's less often as he usually would like.)

 

    He stopped in the doorway, looking to the owner of an aggressive hiss. An orange and black cat stood in the hall, only a meter away and hissing at him. The pet’s tail was straight in the air, body crouched and ready to pounce. 

 

    Michael narrowed his eyes, their eye contact held until the cat’s hiss began to die out. A whimper left the animal at the intimidating gaze and slowly backed off. 

 

    The killer turned, leaving the door ajar behind him as he stripped from his underwear and removed the mask. His mask and knife sat on the edge of the sink counter, right next to the bathtub. 

 

    There was a moment of him letting the water run over him, drops were cold, unchanged from when he first twisted the knob to let the water run. 

 

    His head cocked to the side as the sound of the door squeaking open caught his attention. Three things came to mind, one which would be the least wanted. One other being fine and the last thing he fancied. 

 

    He peaked past the curtain a gleam flashing in his eyes as he saw a familiar hockey-masked killer look into the room. Their eyes met for a brief moment and Michael pulled his head back. The invitation was clear, whether Jason wanted to accept was all up to his choice. 

 

    Michael shifted, not turning around when he knew the other had stepped in behind him. There was a good amount of him that knew Jason probably didn't take his mask off. Still uncomfortable with letting Michael see his face openly. Michael didn't mind, he can be patient. 

 

    If the blonde killer had to be honest, the size of the bathtub wasn't enough to really give two tall and broad men enough space. He can feel the warmth that radiated from Jason, reaching a hand to turn the water a bit warmer. He was enveloped into a hug, his bare back pressing to Jason's chest. He felt the edges of his hockey mask press into his shoulder ever-so-slightly despite his long hair hindering his view. 

 

    “ _ C… cold... _ ” Jason hummed in a quiet murmur, giving Michael a squeeze. The water that had previously washed over him had given him a chill. Contrast compared to Jason's warmer presence. 

 

    Michael's eyes flickered, Jason's body flushed against him. He was surprised when the other moved to slowly raise the mask off his face. As soon as it was off and tossed past the curtain, his face was hidden in the crock of Michael's neck. Blonde hair fell loose over his shoulders as Jason buried his head there. 

 

    Michael sighs, an arm moving around to trail his fingernails gently over Jason's scalp. A content noise leaving his partner.

 

    “Soap?” Michael asked, twisting himself to face the other. Behind Jason was the rack holding bottles. Although the arms around him didn't loosen.

 

    Jason doesn't move to retrieve the item, nor speak. He squeezes Michael again, the taller killer liking the closeness intimacy brought. 

 

    It was rare for Michael to see him without the mask, dark brown eyes stared into lighter ones. It made him anxious how calculating Michael's gaze always seemed to be. Though the brewing feeling in his stomach calmed when Michael began to play with the patches of reddish hair. 

 

    “ _ Soft _ ,” he mumbles a comment, loud enough for Jason to hear. He moves a bit so the water falls over the blonde. Hair clinging to the sides of his face, Jason smiled. “Wash now _ , Jason _ .” 

 

    The smile shifted to a pout, nodding as he finally let his arms fall to his sides. 

 

  
  
•▪°○°▪•

  
  
  


    Michael rummaged through cupboards, grabbing any sort of perishable foods and snacks he can stuff into the duffle bag. By doing this, saves the trouble of hunting for food. A downside when you're a killer without the means of going out and buying food supplies. The man will take what he can get in the meantime. 

 

    Jason sat on the sofa in the living room. He had helped by moving the dead body away from the front door. Seeing as Michael didn't care as much, he wasn't staying here forever, after all. 

 

    Michael glanced past the archway, the cat that belonged to the owner of the house had indulged itself to curl up on Jason's lap. While the killer flicked through channels on the t.v far too eagerly. 

 

    The killer stopped when the duffle bag was too full to carry anything else. Already full enough with foods and (now clean) clothing. 

 

    He moved to stand up, bringing the duffle bag to the back door before walking to the living room. 

 

    The cat on the other killer's lap had raised its head. Looking at Michael with eyes calculating, just as his own. A meow leaving the pet before it lowered its head seconds later. 

 

    Michael glowered at the cat for a moment, sitting down next to Jason with a huff. The hockey-masked killer looked on with clear amusement. Not saying anything when the silent stalker of Haddonfield curled up by his side. A lean and glance at the eyeholes showed the dark brown hues covered by eyelids. 

 

    Michael indulged himself with the closeness, not usually the one to initiate any sort of cuddling. That was left to Jason, being more eager to sate his touch-starved side. Michael was willing to play that part. Though he did have a thing against Jason's divided attention at this moment.

 

    Jason's hand combed through the nameless cat's fur. The show playing on the t.v fell upon deaf ears as soon as Michael let out a grumble of protest, taking the hand off the cat and lacing their fingers together instead. Uncharacteristic of Michael, Jason had to smile, not voicing how there was obvious jealousy or possessiveness to the shorter killer's actions. 

 

    “...  _ Cute _ .” 

 

    Michael muffled a scoff, turning away slightly but never pulling his hand away. He most definitely  _ wasn't _ , nothing Jason would say could change that. Still, he couldn't stop the heat that crawled up his cheeks.

 

    Jason scooped the cat up with a free arm and moved it to the cushion next to him. He pulled Michael forward and onto his lap, a grunt leaving the other. 

 

    “What're you doing.” Michael murmurs, resting his hands on Jason's broad shoulders to steady himself. The other nuzzles himself against Michael's neck, taking it as an okay as the other hadn't yet pushed him away. Michael relaxed in his hold, glaring at the cat who pawed at his leg, meowing at being discarded to the side. 

 

    When the cat persisted, Michael grabbed the scruff of its neck to stare right at it. Its ears lowered, and so did Michael's hand which was holding it. There was a sound of mild disappointment that left the animal before it hopped off the couch and padded out of the room. 

 

_ That was mean, _ Jason's eyes read. All Michael did was role his own, muscles unwinding and relaxing his weight onto Jason. 

 

_ I don't care, _ was his nonverbal response. Taking it upon him to have his arms wrapped over his shoulders. He didn’t stop Jason as one of the hands on his waist moved up to push the mask higher up his face. So, Michael took it upon himself to lift the hockey mask, not objecting either when Jason prompted him closer. Their lips met feverishly, exchanges of chaste and long kisses between them. They can smell the shared toothpaste they had brushed their teeth with less than an hour ago. Michael got a satisfied grunt from the man under him when he slipped his tongue pass the other's lips. 

 

    Jason, no matter what, is always scared to take things too fast or accidentally hurt him (although Michael would always reassure him that wouldn't happen.) His hands hesitated before resting on Michael's waist, itching ever so close as to cup his bottom. Michael moved his hands to Jason's forearms as they parted to catch some air in the brief moment. Urging him to do as he wanted, Michael was alright with it, he trusted Jason more than enough. Otherwise the Crystal lake guard dog would have been five feet under by now.

 

    Michael was pulled closer, the breath of the killer under him tickled at his neck, a huff of amusement leaving the blonde. 

 

    Jason nuzzled his neck, a very innocent display compared to how he enjoyed holding the other by the arse. Nothing more though, nothing they didn't want just yet. 

 

    Michael settled in his spot as Jason began to nip at the skin of his exposed neck and collarbone. An ever-so-quiet hum rumbling in Michael's throat. He was content, and so was Jason. 

 

    The night felt short-lived. Mixes between kisses and unspoken feelings, they soon found themselves forced out and away from the house. Someone in relation to the dead owner had pulled into the driveway. The sound -- even over the t.v -- caught their attention. Jason let out a very quiet and irritated noise. Neither wanted to leave each other at the moment, however, they didn't want to risk being seen and or caught either.

 

    Michael was quick to move off him as soon as Jason's hold loosened. They pulled their masks back into place, Michael going to grab the duffle bag. 

 

    Jason peeked out the front door window, stepping back in surprise as the person came rushing to the door in a hurry. Could've been an emergency, he could manage a worried look on the person's features through the glass door hole. They had to go quickly. 

 

    Michael had picked up the duffle bag, wanting to swing the straps onto his shoulders before his hand was taken and pulled by the other killer. 

 

  
•°•

  
  


    Will managed to open the door with a spare key after she hadn't answered immediately. He had called her, 10 times now, the teen wasn't sure if his sister was alright. 

 

    A choked gasp left him when his eyes immediately laid eyes on the puddle of blood right by the welcome mat. His eyes shooting up to the way to the back door when there was a loud crash. 

 

    “Jenny?” He called, running over after swiping a knife from the kitchen counter. Briefly registering the mess before he had made it to the back door. 

 

    And there he saw it, two tall masked figures turned to look at him when his sister's name died in his throat. One, a familiar mask that belonged to the notorious ‘Michael Myers’, the other, a taller one with a hockey mask. 

 

_ It can't be him- oh God no… _ Will watched silently as the two disappeared behind the tall picket fence. The shadows soon hiding them from Will’s view. 

 

_ If that was Michael Myers… the real Michael Myers- _

 

    Will stopped, a sob leaving him as he quickly reached for his phone. He called 9-1-1 and told them everything he knew, stayed on the phone when he found his sister, squished into the broom closet with blood trailing out from under the door. It was the final straw for Will, letting the waterworks run as the cops were dispatched. 

 

    Days after, having to deal with the loss and grief, he still had a question that bothered him. Something he was kept from knowing when he mentioned it to an officer, a flash of recognition in the officer's eyes. 

  
  


_ If that was Michael Myers, then who was the hockey masked man with him? _

  
  



End file.
